Stolen Girl (15 page)

Taking another deep breath I slowly walked towards the door. I didn’t know if I was supposed to knock or not; Zeb hadn’t told me. My heart was pounding and every sinew of my body told me to turn and run away. But I couldn’t – I was simply terrified. I couldn’t outrun a car; I didn’t know a soul here in this other town. There was no way out, it was too late.

The door swung open and I saw Zeb standing there. With a dramatic sweep of his hand he invited me in.

‘What took you so long? I’ve been waiting,’ he grinned.

The light in the front room shone against his face and for the first time I realised he was a little younger than I’d first thought, but he was still a man.

The door clicked behind me – I felt trapped. I was with a strange man in a strange house and I didn’t know what to do or how to get home.

I’ll just have to do everything he tells me,
I thought.
It’s the only way I’ll get home safe.

It seemed alien to think so straight at a time like this but I knew I needed a plan if I wanted to get out of there.

My eyes scanned the room; it was sparse and unloved with very little furniture inside. The front room was open-plan with a living area at the front and a kitchen at the back. But then I noticed something else; there was no cooker, only a sink and taps. I thought it odd – a kitchen without a cooker. There was a door to my left but I didn’t know what was behind it because it was closed. The living room was empty apart from a TV, coffee table and two sofas. I turned to face Zeb.

‘So, what are we doing here?’ I asked. My forced confidence masked the sheer terror I felt inside.

‘Come,’ he said, taking me by the hand. ‘I want to talk to you…but not down here. I want to talk to you upstairs.’

He pushed down the handle of the closed door and pulled it open. I peered through and saw a set of stairs. Zeb pulled at my hand but I hesitated and tried to let go.

‘What?’ he asked, a little more gently. ‘I just want to talk to you, that’s all.’

I was frightened but I was too scared to refuse, terrified of what he’d do to me if I said no.

‘Okay,’ I agreed weakly and we began to climb the stairs.

We walked up the first set of stairs onto a landing and that’s when I noticed a bedroom leading off it.

‘No, not in there. We’re going to the room at the top.’

I gulped. I didn’t want to go to the room at the top – I wanted to turn and run the other way, down the stairs and out onto the street outside. But Aban was there and he’d stop me.

There was another door at the end of the corridor which led
to a bathroom. Everything looked normal so far and, thankfully, we seemed to be alone. I breathed a sigh of relief. As we passed the bathroom I noticed how filthy it was. There was scum around the sink. I knew this wasn’t a normal house – it looked like a doss house.

We arrived at the top of the second set of stairs and Zeb turned sharply to his left. We’d reached the room on the top floor.

The room was dark inside so Zeb ran his hand along the wall and clicked on the light switch. The walls were a filthy, discoloured blue. It was a scruffy, empty room apart from an unmade king-size bed in the middle with a sofa situated opposite in a corner of the room. My heart sank as Zeb walked over to the bed. It had no sheets, only a stained mattress. For a minute I thought he was going to make me lie down on it with him but instead he flung his coat down on top of it.

‘Come,’ he said, walking over to the sofa and flopping down upon it. His hand patted the empty space beside him.

‘Come and sit with me.’

I was too frightened to say no so I sat down. I sat and waited for him to pounce but instead he started to talk.

‘I want to be with you,’ he said, ‘but I can’t. You can’t ever be my girlfriend because I live with my mum and dad and you are white. They would never accept a white girl in their home.’

I began to relax. Maybe he liked me but couldn’t be seen with me, just like Sam and Tali. That’s why he’d brought me here. Maybe this was just like Sam’s restaurant?

‘I like you, Katie,’ said Zeb, pulling a spliff from his pocket. He lit it and took a drag.

‘Want some?’ he asked.

‘Yeah,’ I said. Nervous relief washed over me and for the first
time, I felt better. He’d said we’d chill and now we were. We’d probably just smoke the joint and leave.

Zeb handed the spliff to me.

‘I can’t be with you, Katie, I can’t be your boyfriend,’ he explained again. But he didn’t have to; I knew how it worked and I didn’t mind. I wasn’t looking for a new boyfriend anyway – I already had three.

‘What do you do?’ I asked, changing the subject. ‘Do you work?’

Zeb shook his head.

‘No, no, I’m at college,’ he replied. ‘I want to learn so I can get a good job.’

I was just about to ask what he was studying when Zeb leaned forward and kissed me. It was sudden and unexpected and I wasn’t sure quite what to do. But the spliff relaxed me and all the fear I’d felt disappeared. Maybe Zeb wasn’t so bad after all?

Just as I began to trust him, Zeb undid the zip on his jeans.

‘I want you to give me a blow job,’ he insisted, his voice harsh and cold.

‘No,’ I refused.

‘Listen, Katie, I want a blow job and you are going to give me one, whether you like it or not.’

I looked around me. I thought about making a run for it but the door was at the other side of the room. It was hopeless – Zeb would catch me. He might lose his temper and push me down the stairs. The room was airless; there wasn’t even a window at the front, only a skylight. No one apart from Zeb and Aban knew I was there; I was trapped. I thought back to my original plan. If I gave him what he wanted then that would be it – he’d let me go home.

‘Give me a blow job, now,’ he said, roughly grabbing the back of my head.

I cried with pain as he tugged and twisted my long hair between his fingers. He forced my face into his crotch. I was shaking with fear. In an instant Zeb had changed from Mr Nice Guy to something else entirely.

‘Listen, I don’t give a fuck if you don’t want to do it, you’re going to do it anyway,’ he screamed at me. He grabbed my face, pulled down his pants and forced my head onto him. I shut my eyes and tried to shut off my mind as I did as he asked. He was in control now, not me.

At one point, I tried to pull away but he was stronger and he forced me back down. It was no good.
The sooner I did as he asked,
I thought,
the sooner I could leave.
But then the plan changed again.

‘Take off your clothes!’ he barked.

I trembled on the sofa and wrapped my arms protectively across my chest.

‘But I don’t want to…’

‘I don’t give a fuck what you want, take them off now! Take them
all
off!’ he screamed.

His eyes were wild and his faced crazed with anger. I was terrified what he’d do if I didn’t obey.

‘Take them off now!’ he shouted again. This time his voice and body rose with anger and he turned to face me square on. I cowered beneath him.

‘If you don’t take them off, I’ll fucking rip them off, understand?’

I nodded weakly and began to take off my clothes. I’d been naked with Sam, Tali, Wadi and Dean but that was different, they were my boyfriends – Zeb was a stranger. I didn’t know what he was capable of.

‘You’re going to do this,’ he said as he forced me to lie on the sofa.

I watched as he pulled something from his trouser pocket. It was a condom.

He lay down on top of me, the dead weight of his body pinning me down. The cheap fabric of the sofa rubbed against my back and legs as he raped me.

I tried to get up, to push him off but it was no good. He was so much stronger – I didn’t stand a chance.

At one point I screamed out loud but it just made him worse.

‘What the fuck are you doing?’ he said, clamping a hand across my mouth. Suddenly I couldn’t breathe. I thought I’d black out but I managed to wriggle from underneath his hand and snort through my nostrils. I sounded like a frightened animal – he was treating me like an animal.

‘I said keep the fuck down!’ he hollered, giving me another hard shove. He knelt on the top of my arms so I couldn’t move.

I looked up and saw the bare light bulb and the filthy flaked painted ceiling. I tried to separate my mind from what was happening but it was no good. I was here and I was being raped by a complete stranger. I wanted to die – death would be better than this.

Afterwards, Zeb pulled his boxer shorts and jeans back up. He’d kept his top on throughout. I wondered why and then I realised it was so I couldn’t scratch his body.

‘Get up,’ he hissed but I couldn’t move. I was shivering. Naked, I curled up into a ball – the foetal position – but my eyes remained wide with fear because I didn’t know what he’d do next.

‘Get up and get dressed,’ he said, picking up my bundle of
clothes from the floor. He bunched them up in his hands and threw them at me like rags.

‘Get dressed and come downstairs.’

Frozen with fear, I watched as he walked towards the door and slammed it behind him. I heard his footsteps on the stairs and let out a sigh of relief. It was over, for now. I looked down at my body. Had that really just happened?

My hands were trembling as I pulled up my knickers and dragged on my jeans. It made me feel a little better, covering up my body. It felt good, like a cloth armour. It wouldn’t protect me from Zeb but I had to cover myself – he’d seen enough of me.

I had been raped.
The words stuck inside my head.
I’d been raped by a stranger.
But I’d agreed to come here, so it was my fault. I’d come to this deserted house in a different part of town. I’d allowed Zeb to bring me up here to this room and let him kiss me. My whole body shuddered with revulsion as I thought of it and what had followed.

People would call me an idiot for trusting a complete stranger. They’d say it was all my fault and I’d got what I deserved. Maybe those girls at school had been right about me, maybe I was stupid.

I was still blaming myself when I heard a voice; it was Zeb calling up to me.

‘Katie, are you ready? I’m waiting for you.’

‘
D
on’t tell anyone you’ve been here,’ Zeb hissed as soon as I stepped into the living room. I’d just been raped and I couldn’t stop shaking.

‘No one must ever know about this house, understand?’ His voice was harsh and his eyes cold.

‘Yes,’ I nodded, my voice barely a whisper. I was so frightened; I couldn’t even look at him.

My body was numb with shock. I’d been raped right here in this house whilst families busied themselves just feet away, on the other side of the wall.

Zeb was sat on the sofa smoking another spliff. The TV was blaring away to itself in a corner of the room. He was facing it but I could tell he wasn’t watching.

I found a place on the other sofa next to Aban. He must have come into the house when I was upstairs. I tried to look up at him. Did he know what Zeb had just done? Had he heard us
upstairs? Was he in on the whole thing? I tried to catch his eye but he continued to stare straight ahead.

Zeb was trying to talk to me. He was acting nice in front of Aban, as though the last half an hour hadn’t happened.

‘Are you alright, Katie?’ he asked.

I flinched as I watched him cross the room. He told Aban to budge up and make some room. Zeb nestled himself down on the sofa beside me and I felt my skin crawl at the touch of his hand against my face.

I wanted to shout it out:
You’ve just raped me, why would I be alright?
But I was terrified. Anxiety tightened inside me like a balled fist. I was too frightened to reply – too scared to speak in case I said the wrong thing and angered him more. Instead I sat in a numbed silence.

‘Okay?’ he asked again. I tried not to look at him but his hand moved from my face to my hair. He stroked it and I flinched once more. This time he noticed.

‘You have to go home now,’ he said suddenly, rising to his feet.

Aban got up too. He grabbed the remote control and flicked off the TV. He was in on this, he had to be. He’d not raped me but he’d played his part – he’d driven me here to the secret house. He’d allowed this monster to bring me here and rape me. How could he not know?

Aban opened the door and waited for me to follow. I turned to see Zeb. He sat back down and lit another spliff. I breathed a sigh of relief – it was obvious he wasn’t coming with us.

As I turned to leave, Zeb called me and I automatically froze.

‘My friend will take you but I’ll call you again soon, okay?’

But I knew it wasn’t a question: I had no choice because I was terrified of him. If Zeb wanted to see me again, he would. He’d make the decisions. I felt powerless against him. I thought about telling someone, but who would I tell and what would I say? That I got into a car with two strange men and let them drive me miles away to a strange house in a strange town? They would say I deserved it and maybe they’d be right – maybe this was all I deserved now.

Aban drove me home in complete silence. I didn’t doubt for one minute that he would try anything on with me. He did what Zeb told him and Zeb made it clear I was his property, no one else’s.

As the car pulled up at the back of the newsagents, I didn’t say a word. Instead I opened up the door and stepped out into the darkened alleyway. I hadn’t even fastened my seatbelt on the journey home – what was the point? I’d already been hurt in the most unimaginable way. The thought of lying dead in the road brought me a perverse kind of comfort. At that moment, death seemed preferable to how I felt right now. At least if I was dead I wouldn’t remember every sickening second – his breath on my face, his body on mine, the ripping agony as he forced himself inside me.

I waited until I saw the red lights of Aban’s car turn right and disappear off onto the main road. I waited because I didn’t want him to follow me home and see where I lived. Finally, when I was sure he was gone, I ran. As my feet picked up speed my mind replayed every moment over and over again like a sick film trailer.

The smell of Mum’s cooking hit me as soon as I opened the front door. It turned my stomach.

‘Is that you?’ she called from the kitchen.

‘Yeah,’ I replied. Even my voice sounded different. It was tense and broken as though I’d become a different person in just one night.

‘Your tea has been ready for ages,’ Mum moaned as I walked past her in the hallway and headed up the stairs.

‘I’m not hungry,’ I mumbled. It was true – I felt sick.

‘But where have you been? You should’ve been home ages ago.’

She was still scolding me as I reached the top of the stairs. But I didn’t want to talk or to answer any of Mum’s difficult questions; I just wanted to be alone.

‘Sorry,’ I called back down.

I saw the bathroom in front of me. I walked in and locked the door.

Mum’s voice was slightly muffled downstairs but I could hear her talking to Phil.

‘I don’t know what’s got into her these days. Maybe it’s hormones – I don’t know,’ she huffed.

‘She’s just a kid, she’ll snap out of it,’ I heard Phil say.

But they didn’t have a clue. They didn’t know I’d just been attacked by a strange man in a secret house that I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone about. For a split second I thought about ripping open the bathroom door and screaming,
I’ll tell you what’s wrong, I’ve just been raped!

Although the thought was in my head I didn’t know where to even begin or how to tell them. I knew there’d be too many questions – ones I didn’t want to answer. They’d want to know where Zeb had got my number from but I didn’t know. Only Sam, Wadi and Tali had my mobile number – had one of them given it to Zeb?

I knew Mum would go crackers at me for going off with
strangers.
What have I always told you about going off with people you don’t know?
she’d say.

I could hear her now. If she knew about Zeb, then I’d have to tell her about Sam, Wadi and Tali – I’d be in so much trouble. She’d find out I’d been having sex with different men. I shuddered when I thought of it. Phil would find out and then there was Dad – they’d be sure to tell him. They might even call the police and then I’d be in loads of trouble because I was only fourteen. The whole school would find out and my life wouldn’t be worth living. They’d all call me a slag.

No, I decided, this was one secret I’d keep to myself.

Instead I clicked on the shower and allowed my clothes to fall onto the floor around my feet. As the water washed over my face and streamed down my body I took out the flannel and began to scrub. I had to get his scent off me – I had to remove every trace of him from my skin. The bubbles foamed and frothed on the pink washcloth as I scrubbed and scrubbed, trying to get clean once more. I turned the thermostat control as high as I could bear. The water scalded my skin. It was so hot it felt as though the heat would strip it right off down to the bone, but I needed to be rid of him and his germs.

Eventually, I patted myself dry and wrapped the towel around my body. I glanced down at my clothes – they’d still be contaminated. I balled them up in my hands and pushed them deep down into the wash basket. I didn’t care if I never saw them again because they would always remind me of what had happened that night.

I padded along the hallway to my bedroom and closed the door. I sat on the bed and looked around the room and then I saw it on the floor, next to the radiator: my pencil case. I
grabbed it and pulled the zip open. My eyes scanned inside but I didn’t have to look too hard – the sharpener was right there.

Undoing the screw, I pulled out the blade. I knew what needed to be done and I wasn’t frightened – not anymore. I felt glad, glad that I had something to take away the pain. The steel blade cut into my soft skin like a knife against butter. I sighed with relief as a crimson stripe immediately appeared and blood began to flow down my wrist. The cut had been deep, but deep was good. Deep meant more blood and more relief. It was as though my blood contained all the badness inside. Now it was spilling out, and the badness was coming out with it.

I slashed again and again until my right arm was so shredded it looked as though I’d pushed it through a glass window. Soon the blood covered the uncut skin until I couldn’t see pink flesh anymore. The cuts were so deep that blood began to drip down onto the duvet.

‘Shit!’ I cursed. I grabbed a box of tissues and tried to stem the flow.

I knew I’d gone too far. It took ages to stop bleeding but eventually it subsided and my wounds began to crust over.

I fell into a fitful night’s sleep where I was plagued by monsters, murderers and rapists all trying to hurt me. The face on each one was always the same – it was the face of Zeb. In my dream I tried to run away from him but something would prevent me from escaping. My feet became tangled in imaginary weeds or I would trip up and fall at the wrong moment. Zeb always caught me in the end.

The following day I was exhausted through lack of sleep. Bleary-eyed I pulled down the sleeves of my school jumper so that Mum wouldn’t see what I’d done to my arm. But then I
realised – I’d need more than a jumper because later that afternoon I had PE lesson.

Phil was in the bathroom, having a shower. As soon as I heard him leave, I ran into the bathroom and shut the door. I opened up the cabinet and rummaged around with my hand until I found a pack of plasters. They were old and wedged at the back but it didn’t matter, they’d have to do.

Later that day before the lesson, I slipped into the toilet and looked in the packet for the longest plaster I could find. It looked dramatic and ridiculous on my arm but it would do the job. I came out of the cubicle and walked over to the changing rooms where the rest of the class was getting changed.

‘What have you done to your arm?’ Megan immediately asked as soon as I took off my jumper.

I felt my face flush.

‘I fell into a rose bush on the way home from school – I wasn’t looking where I was going. It was dead funny,’ I lied, a false grin spreading across my face.

Megan eyed the plaster and looked back at me. Her face was so concerned it made me want to weep.

‘It looks really sore,’ she said.

‘Oh, it’s okay. I’ve just made a bit of a mess of it, that’s all.’

I changed the subject and we chatted about the lesson ahead. I didn’t know if she believed me about the cuts and part of me worried that she’d tell Lauren.

After that, I decided I needed to be more careful. From now on I’d have to keep my scars and plasters hidden.

One morning, I was running late for school. I pulled on my dressing gown and made my way downstairs to the kitchen. I was so tired that I didn’t notice when my right sleeve slipped down as I reached up to the cupboard for a glass.

‘What’s that on your arm?’ Andrew gasped. He was standing by the sink but had turned in time to see.

At first I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. My mind was still fuggy with sleep but then I remembered the cuts.

‘Nothing,’ I snapped defensively. I grabbed at the cuff of my dressing gown but he pulled it back to get a better look.

‘What have you done to your arm?’ he shrieked.

I refused to answer.

‘Well,’ he threatened, ‘let’s see what Mum has to say about it.’

‘It’s none of your business!’ I snapped but he wasn’t listening. Now he’d seen I knew he’d tell Mum.

I slipped out for school without another word. All day long I dreaded going back home because I knew she’d be waiting for me, waiting for answers I didn’t have.

‘Let me see your arms,’ Mum ordered as soon as I walked in.

My heart froze.

‘It’s nothing,’ I pleaded. ‘Whatever he’s told you…he’s lying.’

‘Arms, NOW!’ she shouted, grabbing my right arm.

Mum pulled up the sleeve of my school jumper and her face physically winced when she saw the cuts.

‘Why, Katie? Why have you done that to yourself?’

But I couldn’t tell her because I didn’t know myself. I only knew I liked cutting myself because it made me feel better – it stopped the pain.

I thought about Zeb and the rape. Sam, Wadi and Tali – all the dirty sex I’d been having with different men. Mum looked at me.

‘Why?’ she demanded to know.

I didn’t know what to say so I just shrugged. Mum was dumbstruck and didn’t know what to do.

‘Well,’ she said. ‘Whatever it is, it’s stupid and I want you to stop it right now.’

‘Okay,’ I mumbled.

‘Do you understand?’ she insisted. She looked at me but I couldn’t face her. I didn’t want her to see there was more I was keeping from her.

‘Okay,’ I agreed, pulling back my arm.

‘Why do you always have to be such a drama queen?’ Mum asked.

I wanted to tell her, but what could I say? This wasn’t attention-seeking – this was self-harm. I was doing it because I hated my life. I hated Zeb and what he’d done to me. I hated the bullies at school and how crap they made me feel. Maybe, in the back of my mind, I was subconsciously harming myself to draw attention so that someone,
anyone
, would ask me what was making me feel so bad. Maybe it was a cry for help; maybe I wanted someone to ask. But, other than Megan, no one ever did.

I grabbed my school bag off the floor. Mum rolled her eyes in annoyance as I pushed past her and went upstairs to my bedroom. Half an hour later the blade was back in my hand as I made a fresh cut.

That night I lay on my bed and thought about what Zeb had said. He’d told me not to tell. I wanted to, but I was frightened of him and what he’d do to me if I did.

And then there was Dean. We’d still been seeing each other but my time was now taken up with all these other men and there was very little space left for him. Now all I did was make excuses why we couldn’t meet. Even when we managed to get together, my mobile phone would bleep with text messages. I told him it was Lauren but I knew he
didn’t believe me. He was sick of it and looked at me as though he didn’t even know who I was anymore. I hardly knew myself.

The following day, I was so lost in my thoughts that at first I didn’t see a girl in the year above walking in front of me along the pavement. But she kept turning round and that’s when I noticed her. She turned again and whispered something to her friend. The other girl shot me a nasty look and the two of them smirked and laughed. I looked behind but there was no one there. They were laughing at me. I knew I should cross the road but when I did, the girls followed.